Timbuktu: The Ultimate Quest for Adventure

December 2024: The very name Timbuktu conjures images of legendary exploration, lost cities, and vast desert landscapes—a place once whispered about in European courts as a city of gold and unimaginable wealth, hidden deep within the Sahara Desert.

For centuries, European explorers risked everything to reach it. Many never made it out alive. Some were captured, enslaved, or executed, their names forever lost to history.

Even today, while Timbuktu is no longer the unreachable enigma it once was, it remains a challenging and perilous destination—a city that sits in a region torn apart by conflict, plagued by Tuareg rebellions, and haunted by the looming threat of jihadists, who have been known to kidnap and kill foreigners.

The Holy Grail of Adventure Travel

For adventure travelers, Timbuktu is the ultimate prize—the holy grail of remote destinations.

And for me? It was no different.

Despite having already traveled through Mali, including an unforgettable journey trekking through the Dogon Cliffs in a country wracked by conflict and terrorism, I still felt the pull of Timbuktu.

Its mystique, its history, its forbidden aura—it was a place I needed to experience for myself.

So, with a group of like-minded travelers, I set out to make the journey to this legendary city, determined to finally stand in its fabled sands and walk in the footsteps of the explorers, traders, and scholars who made Timbuktu a beacon of knowledge and power for centuries.

Location of Timbuktu in Mali

Murals of Colonel Assimi Goïta and other members of the Military Junta Currently in Charge 

Map depicting how widespread terror attacks are in Mali

The Complicated Path to Timbuktu: A Journey in the Making

I began planning my trip to Timbuktu during the summer, knowing full well that getting there would be far from simple.

For years, the only viable way for foreigners to visit had been to privately charter a small plane—a costly and restrictive option that only allowed for a brief half-day visit.

Local authorities, citing security concerns, placed strict limitations on foreigners:

• Soldier escorts were mandatory, adding to the cost.
• The entire visit was micromanaged, leaving little freedom to explore.
• And even after securing a chartered flight, permission to land wasn’t guaranteed—just months earlier, a traveler had flown all the way to Timbuktu, only for the plane to be denied clearance, forcing them to return to Bamako.

Spending thousands of dollars only to risk being turned away made this option far less appealing.

A Rare Opportunity: The Tuareg Music Festival

Through local Malian fixers, I learned of a unique exception—once a year, during a Tuareg music festival in mid-December, the government allows foreigners to stay in Timbuktu for multiple nights.

The reason? The festival draws Malian government officials, and security is significantly reinforced—with government forces, Wagner mercenaries, and military presence ramped up to protect dignitaries.

This was the perfect opportunity:

✔ Two nights in Timbuktu, rather than just a rushed half-day.
✔ The chance to experience the legendary Tuareg desert blues music, a genre I had long admired.
✔ A rare performance by artists like Tinariwen, a band that had achieved international acclaim and even collaborated with Herbie Hancock.

This was the trip I had been waiting for.

Gathering a Group & Unexpected Changes

At first, I was told we would need to charter a plane—the cost decreasing as more travelers joined, up to a maximum of nine passengers.

Determined to make the trip affordable, I started organizing a group.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long to fill all nine spots. Everything was coming together.

And then? The plan changed.

Instead of chartering a private plane, we would now be flying to Timbuktu on a military or United Nations aircraft, arranged by the Malian government.

While this significantly reduced costs, it came with a major catch:

• The plane would drop us off for two days—but there would be no guarantee of when we’d be picked up.
• Flight schedules were notoriously unpredictable—delays could stretch into days, as had happened in previous years.
• Timbuktu’s airport was too dangerous for planes to remain on the ground, due to drone and mortar attack threats.
• In the past, pilots had been kidnapped, adding to the logistical challenges.
• No escape route—if something went wrong, we’d be stranded with no immediate way out.

The Final Hurdle: Visas & Paranoia in Mali

Before moving forward, we faced another significant hurdle—obtaining visas.

Mali’s government had grown increasingly suspicious of foreigners, with many travelers reporting:

🔺 Detentions and interrogations at the airport
🔺 Authorities accusing Westerners of being spies
🔺 Extreme difficulty in obtaining visas under Mali’s new regime in 2024

At first, it seemed nearly impossible to get a visa.

But through my contacts, I discovered that the Mali consulate in New York was still issuing visas, provided we had a letter of invitation from within Mali.

With this inside information, my friends and I successfully secured our visas within a week.

Everything Was Set—Until It Wasn’t

✔ The plane was arranged.
✔ The group was finalized.
✔ The visas were secured.

Everything was falling into place.

And then, just when it seemed like the trip was finally coming together, everything started to fall apart.

The Breaking Point: A Brazen Attack and a New Risk Calculation

Just months before our planned visit, a news story—one most would skim past—hit me like the high beams of a semi-truck veering into my lane.

A large group of Fulani Al-Qaeda jihadists had carried out a nighttime raid on an elite Malian military academy and air force base in Bamako, killing at least 100 soldiers.

This was not a remote attack in the lawless north—this was Bamako, the capital, far from their usual strongholds.

If they could boldly strike the heart of the country, then what was stopping them from doing the same—or worse—in Timbuktu, a city they already had a stronghold over?

Timbuktu’s Vulnerability: A Perfect Target

I pulled up Google Earth and studied Timbuktu.

🔹 The city was completely porous, with the vast, ungoverned Sahara stretching endlessly to the north.
🔹 Its maze of mud-brick houses and sandy alleyways provided perfect hiding places.
🔹 Security would be virtually impossible to enforce, especially during a high-profile event like the music festival, when government officials would be in attendance.

It seemed to me like a perfect time for an attack.

If the jihadists could ambush a fortified military base in Bamako, then a festival packed with politicians and foreigners in Timbuktu was an even juicier target.

Doubts and Uncertainty: Would the Trip Even Happen?

The attack cast serious doubts over whether:

❓ The festival would proceed at all.
❓ Foreigners would even be permitted to enter Timbuktu.
❓ Our plane would be reliable—reports surfaced that planes, including Mali’s presidential aircraft, had been destroyed in jihadist attacks at the airport.

Our Malian guide confirmed the uncertainty—we’d have to wait a few weeks before knowing if the trip was still on.

A Hard Choice: Balancing Adventure with Risk

The trip wasn’t canceled, but the risks were weighing heavily—not just on me, but on everyone in our group.

• One person dropped out entirely.
• Others voiced serious concerns.
• And for the first time in my travels, I felt my mindset shift.

I had always embraced high-risk destinations, but now, as a new father, my risk tolerance had changed.

I wasn’t traveling alone anymore—I had a daughter waiting for me at home.

I wasn’t willing to recklessly gamble everything for Timbuktu, but I also didn’t want to give up on the trip entirely.

The Negotiation: A Way Out

Determined to minimize risk, I asked our guide to contact the festival pilot and explore a new option—a way to visit Timbuktu without staying overnight.

I proposed:

💰 Paying extra for the plane to wait for us for a same-day visit.
💰 Avoiding the dangerous two-night stay.
💰 Reducing exposure to risk, while still experiencing Timbuktu.

After weeks of back-and-forth negotiations, my request was approved.

For a modest fee of a few thousand dollars—manageable when divided among the group—we arranged for the plane to wait for us for half a day.

The Trade-Off: Safety Over Experience

This made the trip safer—but at a cost.

🚫 We would miss most of the festival—one of the key reasons I had wanted to visit in the first place.
🚫 The magic of experiencing Timbuktu under the desert stars would be lost.
🚫 We would be in and out—just a quick, controlled visit.

Even so, the opportunity to see Timbuktu at all—to finally set foot in one of the most mythical cities on Earth—still felt like a rare and worthwhile pursuit.

I had spent months planning this journey—and now, for better or worse, we were going.

Arrival in Timbuktu: A Journey into the Mythical Desert City

As our departure date approached, I received unexpected news—the government-arranged flight to Timbuktu would not be a military aircraft as originally planned.

Instead, we would be flying on a chartered Boeing 737 operated by Sky Mali, the country’s national domestic airline.

The one-hour flight would carry our group, along with:
✈️ Musicians performing at the festival
✈️ Festival attendees traveling from Bamako
✈️ High-ranking military generals and junta ministers, who, naturally, occupied the first-class cabin

This change felt surreal—the very people orchestrating the military operations in Mali would be sitting just a few rows ahead of us, flying into a city that, under normal circumstances, was essentially a war zone.

A Night in Bamako: The Last Stop Before Timbuktu

We arrived in Bamako the day before departure and checked into Tamana, a modest guesthouse nestled in one of the city’s more foreigner-friendly areas.

The neighborhood was an odd mix of embassies, charming cafés, and seedy brothels blasting bass-heavy music deep into the night.

The guesthouse itself was comfortable enough, though it had its fair share of quirks:
🏊 A layer of dead insects floating on the pool’s surface discouraged swimming.
🌙 Frequent blackouts rendered fans and air conditioning useless.
🦟 Each blackout felt like an open invitation for swarms of mosquitoes to invade our room.

Despite the inconveniences, I appreciated being in Mali again—there’s something about the chaos, energy, and rawness of the country that I find exhilarating.

Meeting Other Foreigners Bound for Timbuktu

To our surprise, we discovered another group of foreign travelers staying at the guesthouse—also attending the music festival in Timbuktu.

Our guide, Aly, hadn’t mentioned them before, but knowing we weren’t the only ones crazy enough to attempt this journey was oddly reassuring.

I struck up a conversation with them and asked if they were worried about security—after all, just that day, an attack had taken place in Segou, a town they had visited by car only hours earlier.

Their response?

👉 “It’s best not to read the news—no news, no stress.”

Their nonchalance emboldened some members of our group, who began second-guessing our decision to avoid an overnight stay.

But for those of us who had already adjusted our return flights, it was too late to change plans.

Still, one member of our group decided at the last minute to stay for the festival’s entirety, opting for the full experience.

Boarding a Decrepit Boeing 737 Bound for Timbuktu

Early the next morning, we boarded the aging Boeing 737—and its worn condition was immediately apparent.

🛠️ Loose panels, visible wear, and an overall sense of neglect made the aircraft feel past its prime.
⚠️ My friend, an experienced airline pilot, pointed out a loose cap on the wing—something that, if it detached mid-flight, could damage the rudder.

His observation did little to ease our nerves.

As the plane lifted off, Bamako quickly disappeared beneath us, replaced by an endless expanse of haze and sand.

It was the dry season, and the Sahara’s winds had coated the sky in a thick, suffocating blanket of dust.

Descending Into the Fabled City

As we began our descent, a lifeline in the desert came into view—the Niger River, massive and sprawling, its floodplains wider than I had expected.

Despite being far north into Mali, the river remained a dominating force, swollen from record-breaking rains in the previous wet season.

For centuries, its shifting course had left Timbuktu stranded miles away from its banks, a testament to nature’s ever-changing hand.

Beyond the runway, the vast desert stretched endlessly in all directions—an ocean of sand, marking the edges of one of the most mythical cities on Earth.

A Military Welcome to Timbuktu

Upon landing, we were greeted with a full military reception.

🎺 A band played an energetic medley of horns and drums.
🎖️ Soldiers and local ministers stood at attention.
🎩 The high-ranking generals and junta ministers disembarked first, stepping onto a red carpet laid out in their honor.

We, the festival attendees and foreign travelers, were last to leave the plane.

🚫 No photos were allowed of the airport or its military presence.
🚫 Security was tight, and we were under strict instructions to keep our cameras away.

I had to settle for stolen glimpses of the moment, later relying on Sky Mali’s Facebook page to relive the experience.

After months of planning, uncertainty, and last-minute changes, we had finally arrived in Timbuktu.

Malian generals and ministers that flew with us from Bamako being greeted with military red carpet treatment in Timbuktu

Malian generals and ministers that flew with us from Bamako being greeted with military red carpet treatment in Timbuktu

Arrival in Timbuktu: A City on the Edge of the Sahara

As soon as we landed and stepped off the plane, we were met with absolute chaos.

Aside from our small group, there was only one other group of foreigners—about five people.

The rest of the passengers were a mix of festival attendees, Malian military personnel, and government officials.

Each group was quickly sorted into separate vehicles, to be escorted into town by armed security forces.

Since our group was scheduled to stay for only half a day, we were separated from the others—a surreal moment, considering we had paid just a few thousand dollars to delay the flight’s return, keeping an entire Boeing 737 grounded for the day.

It was hard to believe that our modest contribution had swayed the logistics of an entire flight operation.

Navigating the War-Torn Airport Perimeter

Leaving the airport compound, we zigzagged through a maze of military checkpoints, fortified bunkers, and gun posts wrapped in barbed wire.

The scars of years of conflict were everywhere:

🚀 Frequent mortar fire, RPG attacks, and drone strikes had battered the airport.
💣 Suicide bombings had left their deadly imprint.
🛡️ The defenses were extensive—everywhere we looked, signs of past violence remained.

I scanned the area, searching for signs of Wagner mercenaries, knowing they had a strong presence in Mali.

But they were nowhere to be seen, likely under strict orders to remain out of sight while foreigners were around.

The Road Into Timbuktu: A City Without Defenses

The road into town was nothing more than a dusty track, lined with occasional mudbrick houses and small clusters of activity.

🚔 To my surprise, our military escort peeled off in another direction, leaving us alone to navigate the route into town.

This immediately made me uneasy.

Timbuktu felt wide open, porous, vulnerable—surrounded by the vast, ungoverned desert, it seemed alarmingly easy for enemy combatants to infiltrate or stage an ambush.

And yet, there was no visible security presence along the road.

The Contradiction of Timbuktu: Peaceful but Haunted by War

Despite the underlying risks, the town itself felt remarkably calm—almost serene.

It was a stark contrast to the fearsome reputation Timbuktu had gained in recent years.

🚸 Children stopped to wave at us, posing for photos and greeting us with warm smiles.
🛍️ A handful of vendors, a rare sight in a conflict zone, still clung to the last remnants of tourism, offering handicrafts and souvenirs.

The presence of tourist touts was unexpected but a telling sign of what Timbuktu once was—a destination that once thrived on the dreams of travelers drawn to its mystique.

But now, their business was a shadow of its former self, struggling to survive in a place where tourism had collapsed overnight.

A Souvenir With a Bittersweet Meaning

Feeling sympathy for the vendors, I purchased a small handcrafted item and a t-shirt that read “I’ve Been to Timbuktu”, complete with a tongue-in-cheek Wagner insignia on it.

It was a strange, bittersweet moment—a mix of:

✔ Gratitude for their resilience
✔ Admiration for their persistence in the face of economic devastation
✔ Sadness for the struggles of a city that had once been a beacon for travelers

Timbuktu had once symbolized the ultimate adventure—a legendary city at the end of the earth, where desert traders and scholars once gathered.

Now, it felt like a forgotten relic, its people left to endure the fallout of war, extremism, and abandonment.

Quiet streets of Timbuktu

Streets full of Sahara Desert Sand

People in Timbuktu mostly get around via a combination of motor bike, camel or donkey cart

Local kids excited to see foreigners

Street Scene

Man tending his goats

Market

Madrassa School

Center of Islamic Studies

The home where one of the first European explorers Gordon stayed while he was in Timbuktu. He never returned home alive as he was murdered soon after he left the city. 

The Mud Mosques of Timbuktu: Echoes of a Golden Age

The mud mosques of Timbuktu are among West Africa’s most iconic landmarks, standing as testaments to the city’s rich Islamic heritage and its former glory as a medieval center of learning and trade.

But their history is also one of tragedy.

During the Al-Qaeda occupation of Timbuktu, many Sufi shrines were destroyed, and mosques suffered damage at the hands of extremists.

🔹 Al-Qaeda viewed Sufism—a branch of Islam that venerates saints, much like Catholic traditions—as heretical.
🔹 In their mission to purge what they saw as “idolatry,” they desecrated holy sites that had stood for centuries.

Despite this, the mosques of Timbuktu endure, their ancient mud-brick walls still standing as symbols of faith, knowledge, and resilience.

Djinguereber Mosque: The Oldest Mosque in Timbuktu

Our first stop was the Djinguereber Mosque, the oldest in Timbuktu, commissioned by King Mansa Musa in the early 1300s.

✨ To design it, Mansa Musa brought in an Andalusian/Italian architect named Abu Ishaq es-Sahili, whom he famously paid 440 pounds of gold—a staggering sum that reflected both his wealth and his devotion.

We found the caretaker, an elderly Tuareg man dressed in flowing blue robes, who unlocked the massive wooden doors and welcomed us inside.

As we entered, we removed our shoes and stepped into the cool, shaded corridors beneath centuries-old wooden beams.

One of my friends, who is Muslim, excused himself to pray in the mosque’s sacred inner chambers.

Though I am not Muslim, I felt an overwhelming reverence for the history and spirituality of the space.

🙏 I also felt immense gratitude to God for allowing us to reach Timbuktu despite the many obstacles we had faced.

We wandered through the courtyard and climbed a set of steps to the rooftop, hoping to take in a panoramic view of Timbuktu.

🚫 One of the caretakers quickly stopped us.

He warned us not to venture too far, and I suspect the reason was either:

1️⃣ Snipers were stationed throughout the city, watching for potential threats to the festival attendees.
2️⃣ The rooftop itself was fragile, a concern in Timbuktu’s harsh climate.

Whatever the reason, we respected his warning and descended back into the labyrinth of mud-walled corridors below.

Sankore Mosque: A Legacy of Knowledge

Our next stop was the Sankore Mosque, another of Timbuktu’s great Islamic monuments.

We took turns photographing ourselves in front of its imposing mud-brick towers, adorned with protruding wooden pegs—a distinct architectural feature of Sahelian mosques.

But Sankore was more than just a place of worship.

It was the heart of the legendary Sankore University, an institution founded under Mansa Musa’s reign.

🌍 His vision? To make Timbuktu one of the world’s greatest centers of higher learning.

🕌 Subjects studied included:
✔ Islamic theology
✔ Mathematics
✔ Science
✔ Astronomy
✔ Law
✔ Medicine

At its golden age, Timbuktu was home to hundreds of thousands of manuscripts, painstakingly written by some of the world’s most brilliant scholars.

Many of these manuscripts were housed within the mosques, while others were kept in the homes of families who had passed them down for generations.

Mansa Musa is remembered by the Malian people as a just and devout ruler, whose mosques and learning centers in Timbuktu transformed the city into a beacon of wisdom and scholarship at a time when such institutions were nearly non-existent in much of the medieval world.

One of Timbuktu’s most enduring proverbs captures this legacy:

“Salt comes from the north, gold from the south, silver from the country of the white men, but the word of God and the treasures of wisdom are only to be found in Timbuktu.”

Timbuktu wasn’t just a city—it was a treasure trove of knowledge. Though war and extremism have threatened its legacy, the spirit of learning still lingers in its mosques, whispering through centuries of history, scholarship, and resilience.

Djinguereber Mosque

Djinguereber Mosque

Djinguereber Mosque

Djinguereber Mosque

Sankore Mosque built in 1300s

Me in front of the Sankore Mosque built in 1300s

Sankore Mosque built in 1300s

Timbuktu’s Lost and Rescued Manuscripts: A Legacy of Knowledge

As mentioned earlier, King Mansa Musa transformed Timbuktu into a beacon of higher learning, drawing scholars from across the Islamic world.

These scholars produced an extraordinary collection of manuscripts, documenting not only religious teachings but also advancements in science, mathematics, astronomy, and literature.

📜 Timbuktu’s manuscripts were a treasure trove of knowledge, proving that West Africa was a major intellectual center during the medieval era.

The Destruction of Knowledge: Al-Qaeda’s Assault on Timbuktu’s Heritage

But this rich legacy nearly disappeared forever.

During the Al-Qaeda occupation of Timbuktu, thousands of ancient manuscripts were burned.

🔥 Many contained Sufi teachings, which the extremists deemed heretical.
🔥 Others were destroyed as part of a broader assault on cultural history.

It was a tragic echo of the destruction of knowledge throughout history, reminiscent of the burning of the Library of Alexandria centuries earlier.

Legends of Djinns: Spirits of the Desert Guardians

Local legends hold that desert spirits known as djinns protect Timbuktu and its ancient Sufi manuscripts. For centuries, families safeguarded these sacred texts within their homes, and some were even hidden in remote desert caves.

The belief persists that the djinns guard these writings, and that anyone attempting to read them without permission risks being stricken with misfortune.

When jihadists invaded Timbuktu, intent on destroying the manuscripts because of their Sufi origins, locals not only hid the texts but also claimed that djinn spirits aided them in smuggling the manuscripts to safety. Thanks to this combination of faith and courage, the vast majority of Timbuktu’s manuscripts survived the onslaught.

The Manuscript Rescuer: One Man’s Heroic Effort

However, it wasn’t only myth and legend that saved the manuscripts—it was also the bravery of ordinary people.

📦 A local historian and librarian, Abdel Kader Haidara, risked his life to smuggle thousands of manuscripts out of the city.
🏠 Many others were hidden within the homes of families, who passed them down in secret to protect them.

Together, these efforts ensured that generations of knowledge were not completely erased.

The Preservation of Timbuktu’s Knowledge

Today, the surviving manuscripts are stored in small museums and libraries across Timbuktu.

We had the privilege of visiting one of these institutions, where we observed some of these fragile, centuries-old texts.

📚 Ongoing efforts are underway to digitize the manuscripts, ensuring their wisdom is preserved for future generations.
📡 Each page is carefully scanned and uploaded, a testament to the determination of the people of Timbuktu to safeguard their cultural heritage.

Though Timbuktu’s golden age has faded, its spirit of scholarship endures—a reminder that knowledge, once nearly lost, can always be reclaimed.

A Caretaker of the manuscripts, showing  one of them to us that had fire damage with Koranic writing

A Final Meal in Timbuktu: A Taste of Tradition

Before leaving Timbuktu, we sat down for a traditional meal, a final taste of Malian hospitality before our departure.

🍖 The main dish was raisin and rice stuffing, slow-cooked inside the roasted belly of a sheep.
🥤 While I’m not a huge fan of sheep meat, I savored the fresh watermelon and the ice-cold orange Fanta substitute soda—a refreshing treat in the heat of the Sahel.

As we finished our meal, we received a call from the pilot:

📞 “The plane is ready. It’s time to return to the airport.”

We quickly hopped into our van, and—without a military escort this time—made our way back.

It seemed that during the festival, Timbuktu was considered secure enough for us to travel without an armed convoy.

The Road to the Airport: A Stark Reminder of Timbuktu’s Reality

🚧 The dusty road to the airport was dotted with multiple checkpoints.
🛡️ We zigzagged through manned bunkers, a stark reminder that, despite the festival’s peaceful atmosphere, Timbuktu remained a city under siege.

The contrast was striking—just hours earlier, we were exploring ancient mosques, but now, as we left, we were reminded of the security challenges that still loomed over the region.

Timbuktu Airport: A Meeting of Cultures

Back at the airport terminal, we joined the other departing passengers, mostly Tuareg people dressed in flowing turbans and robes.

🌍 In the center of the terminal, a dirt pit served as a place for travelers to wash their feet and hands before performing their prayers.

There was something humbling about the scene—a reminder that despite war, instability, and outside perceptions of danger, life in Timbuktu carried on.

Boarding the Flight: A Farewell to the Fabled City

✈️ When boarding began, we noticed that the plane was less full than when we arrived, giving us the freedom to scatter into more comfortable seats.

One of our friends decided to stay behind, convinced that the city was safe enough to remain for the full two-night festival experience.

He turned out to be right.

🎶 The festival was a success, with local musicians sharing their rich desert blues traditions.
✅ Thankfully, there were no security incidents, and Timbuktu remained calm throughout the event.

Looking back, I would have stayed too, had I not already changed my flight to return a day early.

Even though our time in Timbuktu was brief, it was an unforgettable glimpse into a legendary city, one that few travelers get to see firsthand.

The desert sands may shift, and the world around it may change, but Timbuktu’s history, resilience, and cultural significance endure—a city that, despite everything, still stands.

Wes and I are wearing our Tuareg turbans and eating watermelon in Timbuktu

A Journey to Sibi: Exploring the Ancestral Land of the Dogon

On our last full day in Bamako, we set out for Sibi, a small village nestled in the mountains outside the city.

We split into two ancient Toyota Land Cruisers and drove two hours into the countryside.

🛑 Our guides warned us about one thing:
🚔 Avoid taking photos at city intersections—this could easily result in being detained by the police for questioning.

In Mali, where paranoia about foreign visitors is common, this was a rule we were careful to follow.

Hiking to Ancient Dogon Caves and a Natural Rock Arch

Once in Sibi, we veered off the main road, following a dusty track until we met a local guide who led us on a hike into the mountains.

The trail led us to:

🏔️ A massive rock arch, a striking geological wonder rising over the landscape.
⛰️ A network of caves, once used by the Dogon people for animistic rituals and animal sacrifices.

Sibi: The Forgotten Homeland of the Dogon

Sibi is the ancestral homeland of the Dogon people, one of West Africa’s most fascinating and mysterious tribes.

Over a thousand years ago, the Dogon fled this region to escape the armies imposing Islam, seeking refuge on the remote Bandiagara Plateau in northern Mali, near the Burkina Faso border.

🚶 I had previously trekked the Bandiagara Plateau on another visit to Mali, where Dogon villages cling to the cliffs like something from another world.

But now, history is repeating itself—and not in a good way.

⚔️ Violent conflicts between the Dogon and the Fulani tribesmen over land and religious tensions have forced many Dogon to flee.
🏚️ Some Dogon are now returning to Sibi, seeking refuge in the land their ancestors abandoned centuries ago.

It was sobering to witness a culture once defined by resilience now facing existential threats once again.

A Glimpse into Dogon Culture: The Sacred Masks and Dance

After our hike, we were treated to a fascinating display of Dogon traditions.

🎭 The Dogon showcased their sacred wooden masks, among the most intricate and beautiful I’ve seen in my travels.
🔮 These masks hold deep spiritual significance, passed down through generations.

Then came the traditional Dogon dance—a spectacle of drumming, movement, and masked figures embodying ancestral spirits.

Yes, it was performed for visitors, but it still carried a powerful sense of authenticity.

🌍 In a world where so many traditions are disappearing, it was meaningful to witness the Dogon preserving their heritage, even in a changing landscape.

As we left Sibi, I reflected on the rich history, the hardships, and the unwavering spirit of the Dogon people.

The world around them may be shifting, but their traditions remain etched into the mountains, the caves, and the stories passed down through time.

Highlands of Sibi

The Arch we hiked to in Sibi

Me sitting under the arch

Dogon Dance

Dogon Dance

Dogon Dance

Dogon Dance

Dogon Dance

A Midnight Departure from Bamako: A Quiet Exit from a Restless City

That night, a few of us departed on our return flight home from Bamako, bringing our journey through Mali to a close.

🌙 Under the cover of darkness, we navigated the quiet but tense streets of the city, heading toward the airport.

Before leaving, we were given one final warning:

🚧 Militia checkpoints could be set up in the city, where our baggage might be searched.

While we had grown accustomed to security checks and roadblocks, the thought of an encounter with armed militias was unsettling.

💨 Luckily, we encountered no such incidents, and our drive to the airport was uneventful.

Bamako Airport: A Final Glimpse of Mali

🛄 At the airport, the usual chaos unfolded—crowds, last-minute bribe requests, and the slow-moving lines of passengers waiting to check in.

But compared to some of our other airport experiences in Africa, this one felt relatively smooth.

After clearing immigration, I took one last look at Mali, reflecting on everything we had experienced—

🏜️ The legendary sands of Timbuktu
🎭 The sacred traditions of the Dogon
🕌 The ancient mosques and lost manuscripts of West Africa’s greatest learning center

Mali had been fascinating, challenging, and deeply rewarding.

✈️ As our plane lifted off into the night, I felt grateful to have seen this part of the world firsthand—a place that few travelers reach, but one that still holds the echoes of its grand history.